


Glossy

by alliterations



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: M/M, Model AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-22
Updated: 2012-09-22
Packaged: 2017-11-14 20:13:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alliterations/pseuds/alliterations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Neku wanted was a raise, but the so-called promotion from barista to assistant for a snobby, irritating, enigmatic model is one he could do without.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am apparently incapable of being in a fandom without writing the characters as models at some point. This has been on LJ for ages, so I figured I'd finally get around to dropping it over here for your enjoyment. I often have a lot of fun with AUs like this, so I hope the rest of you do too!

It was the lull in the day when it was too early for the high school students to be out of class, but too late for even the longest sleeper to want their usual jolt of caffeine. Neku used this time to sketch, mostly, but he’d been staring at a blank page for the past half-hour and was close to giving up. Mr. H would be around soon anyway.

It took a lot for Neku to bring up the topic of a raise, since, despite some of the oddities, he’d be hard pressed to find a boss more easygoing than Mr. H, but he felt he deserved a little more cash for holding down the early morning rush all by himself. Thankfully, Mr. H had just clapped him on the back and said, “ ‘course! I’ll see what I can do.” It was a wonder what his boss did when he wasn’t in the café, but Neku wasn’t one to pry, and so long as he could keep his job, he left it alone. 

The bell at the front of the shop rang, and Neku glanced up from his sketchbook, a little taken aback when he realized it wasn’t Mr. H. The guy didn’t look like the normal teenager or sleepy college student or odd tourist that normally came through, either. He was dressed in a black pea coat and dark jeans, all designer, something Neku only recognized through osmosis from two of his far more fashion conscious friends. But a customer was a customer. 

“Uh. So what can I get you?” Neku slid his sketchbook under the counter and approached the register in an attempt to look like he was at least halfway working. 

“Sanae.” 

“Huh?” 

“ _Sanae_ ,” the other repeated, less patiently, unwrapping his jade green scarf and tossing it casually over the back of a chair. “He apparently owns this place.” 

“Do you mean Mr. H—er, Hanekoma?” Neku leaned one elbow on the countertop, eyebrows furrowing. 

“Yes. I need to talk with him—he told me to meet him here, for whatever reason.” Jerkass, as Neku decided to dub him, finally took his sunglasses off and set them aside, tapping a finger to his lips as he peered up at the menu. “And I’d like a caramel macchiato too. You can put it on my tab.” 

“Your _tab_?” Neku stepped back from the register, folding his arms. “Look, I don’t know what the hell you expect from a hole-in-the-wall coffee joint, but there aren’t any tabs.” 

“Of course not. That’s why I’m asking you to open one.” Jerkass waved his hand, flippantly. “Since Sanae isn’t here yet, I thought I could have a drink while I wait. I don’t assume you’re paid to sit around, you know.” 

“I’m _not_.” He grit his teeth, thinking that punching customers in the face, no matter how they acted, wasn’t a good idea. “I can’t just open a tab for you, or whatever. This isn’t a bar.” The other made no retort except to stare back at Neku, his head tilted slightly in puzzlement. Neku wasn’t sure how much he liked the scrutiny; Jerkass had distinct, otherworldly violet eyes, making the searching gaze twice as unsettling. But after a moment or two, he shifted his attention to the window and gave off a high and lilting laugh. 

“My, you’re difficult. Can’t this be done as a favor, then?” 

“No,” Neku said, flatly. “Give me one good reason why.” 

“Not even if I say _please_?” The other’s smile curved into something a little more winning, but Neku wouldn’t— _didn’t_ —fall for it. Did he really think a pretty face would get him anything he wanted? 

Luckily, the bell announcing someone else entering the café saved Neku from anymore of the frustrating exchange. Mr. H had arrived, finally, pausing near the doorway. 

“Well, hey, you’re both here! That makes things easier.” Laughing, he moved to slip behind the counter. 

“Easier?” Neku echoed, a little bewildered. “What—?” 

“Sorry I couldn’t meet you for lunch, Josh. I thought this would be better in person.” Mr. H gave a bit of an apologetic shrug, addressing Jerkass—Josh? Joshua?—rather than Neku. 

“What would be better in person, Sanae?”

“Meeting your new assistant, ‘course.” He jerked his thumb in Neku’s direction which…had to be a mistake. It _had_ to. 

“My…assistant?” Joshua seemed less horrified, but just as perplexed. 

“I’m just your agent after all, boss. You can’t keep sending me out on errands for you.” He gestured noncommittally. “And Neku here wanted a promotion so I figured, why not kill two birds with one stone?” 

“Whoa, wait, no. I asked for a _raise_. As in I still worked here. You never said anything about being some assistant.” 

“It slipped my mind.” Mr. H rubbed the back of his neck, a little sheepishly. “S’not hard being a model’s assistant—”

“He’s a model?” It explained some things, if Neku thought about it, but at that point, logic didn’t seem to be all that important. “And you said—you’re his _agent_?” 

“Ah, yeah, this café is just kinda a pet project of mine.” Mr. H patted Neku’s shoulder lightly. “Listen, you can think about it, but it does pay way better than the job you got now. If that’s any incentive.” 

It was a big one, and Mr. H probably knew that. Heaving a resigned sigh, and feeling like he might as well be signing over his very soul, Neku slowly and minutely nodded. A second later and he heard a quiet giggle, glancing up to see Joshua looking back at him, amusement blatant. 

“So,” he said, twisting a bit of hair around his index finger. “About that coffee…” 

*****

As much as Neku felt like going straight home and crawling into a hole, he had promised to treat his friends to dinner as celebration over what he anticipated to be a good raise. So much for that. 

Shiki let him into the apartment with a smile as usual, the place a bit of a mess from her and Eri working on some new big project, strewn with scraps of fabric and stacks of magazines for reference. Neku did his best to maneuver around it all and find a clean space to sit in the living room. 

“Hey, if it isn’t Mr. Grumpy,” Eri greeted. “For someone who just got a raise, you don’t look very happy.” Neku simply grunted in response, staring down at the bits of carpet he could see through the general clutter. 

“Unless…oh, no, Neku, you didn’t—” 

“No, I _did_.” He held up his hand and Shiki’s shoulders relaxed in relief. “It’s just…not what I expected. D’you remember how my boss just randomly disappears for most of the day? Well, apparently he’s off being a _modeling agent_.” 

“You’re joking.” 

“Does it look like I am?” Neku exhaled sharply, exasperated. “He dumped one of his models on me, even. A total irritating _asshole_ who—”

“Oh my God.” Eri’s eyes widened, standing up so quickly from her chair she disturbed a pile of sketch paper, sending the pieces scattering all over the floor. “You’re a _model’s assistant_? That’s not fair! You’re not even in the business!” 

“I didn’t ask for this!” 

“Which model? Which agency?” She carried on as if she didn’t hear a thing, leaning over Neku imperiously, hands on her hips. 

“I don’t know!” Neku backed up against the couch, not liking the fact he was suddenly being grilled. “I told you, my boss is apparently the agent. Does Sanae Hanekoma ring any bells?” 

“Not really.” Eri frowned, turning briefly to Shiki who gave a shake of her head in response. “Whose assistant are you then? What do they look like?” 

“I—uh, I only got a first name, I think. Joshua?” He shifted a bit, trying to think of a good enough description that might satisfy Eri so she’d stop interrogating him. “He’s a little shorter than me, really strange purple eyes, light hair—” 

“Wait, wait.” She spun around, moving over to a heap of magazines, peering closely at their spines before pulling one out and flipping through it quickly. Once she found what she was looking for, she dropped the magazine in Neku’s lap, open to the page in question. “Is _that_ him?” Looking down, Neku wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but what he saw nearly caused him to choke on his own spit. 

Laid out on wine red silk sheets and wearing nothing but a pair of black boxers, was the same guy from the café. His body was arched slightly, lithe, pale skin and hair in stark contrast with the dark color of the linens, smile light and evocative and a little…off. But his eyes, even hooded and staring at Neku— _the camera_ , he mentally corrected himself—with intense, undisguised enticement and longing, were the same. That unique, unmistakable shade of violet. 

“I’ll take that a yes.” Startled, Neku glanced up, mortified to realize he’d been staring at the picture long enough to have Eri start smirking at him knowingly. “But no wonder you didn’t recognize him—even I probably wouldn’t have at first. He works for this _really_ selective and secretive company called CAT. They don’t do a lot of shoots, and even then it’s almost exclusively for Gatito’s clothing line. I think the ad you’re looking at is one of the only ones he did for Pegaso…” 

“Then how do you know so much?” Neku glared at her out of lingering embarrassment. Shiki had made room on the couch, pushing off a sewing kit and pattern book, so she could look at the magazine. 

“I make it my business to know everyone that’s good,” Eri replied. “So this isn’t right at _all_ that you get to be his assistant.” 

“Oh! This is for that cologne, _Decadence_. I remember who the model is now.” Shiki looked up at Neku. “We can show you his other ads.” 

“What? No! I don’t want—” 

“They’re not all like _this_ , if that’s what you’re worried about.” She hid a smile behind her hand. “And, besides, shouldn’t you know more about who you’re working for?” 

“Not really. Whatever I need to get by.” Shrugging, Neku set the magazine aside on the coffee table, only to have another one shoved in his face. 

“Here. That one has a little blurb about him.” Eri plopped herself down next to Shiki and Neku resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t getting any food, or even any peace, until he went along with his friends’ whims. 

He barely spared attention for the ad itself, something about watches, and went on to read the little square bit of text next to it. _Yoshiya Kiryu…goes by Joshua in his modeling career, works exclusively for CAT Agency… age 20, birthday is November 15th …_

“Okay, is this going to tell me he likes long walks on the beach next?” 

“Ugh, fine.” Eri rolled her eyes and stood up. “Don’t say we didn’t try and help you when you go through a crash course tomorrow.” 

“Don’t remind me about tomorrow.” Neku groaned. 

“Then I’ll remind you about treating me and Shiki to dinner. And since you get an opportunity the two of us can only dream of, I’m thinking you can do that for the rest of the week.” 

“Hey! That’s—” But Eri was already out of earshot and Shiki was trying to pull him up from the couch by his elbow. 

“C’mon. None of it will be that bad, I promise,” she said, reassuringly. But considering how his day had gone, Neku was pretty sure things could get worse than his lowest expectations.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. This was also longer than I expected. Small note on the name of the café. La Maison literally means “the house/home” in French, but I read that this can be a common name for small places of business that have that cozy, quaint, hole-in-the-wall feel to them. Don’t know if I’m right, because sources on the internet can be fishy, but the name works either way, I think. Also, I hope some of you will be amused at who I made to be the chauffeur. Things will come of that.

A text woke up Neku half an hour before his alarm did. He barely had time to fumble for his phone on bedside table and blearily peer at the screen before another followed. Resignedly, he sat up in bed, rubbing at his eyes and trying to will some clarity into his sleep-fogged mind. Both messages were from Mr. H, the first saying something about sending a schedule and a car coming over at nine to pick him up, and the second being the schedule in question. 

A car? He got a chauffeur? Well, technically Joshua got one, but Neku seemed to be allowed to use his services to run errands, if the little note of _be sure to get coffee and pastries @ La Maison_ above the first appointment of the day was any indication. Sighing, he set his phone aside and got up, not sure if moving from barista to delivery boy was actually an improvement. Regardless, he finished his morning routine, pausing only to grab his bag, and headed out of the apartment building with enough time to spare. A sleek black car was already parked across from the entrance, the diver leaning against the passenger-side door, checking his watch. 

“Um. Hey.” Neku, feeling more than a little awkward, raised his arm in a slight wave to get the other’s attention. 

“Oh, hello!” The driver instantly stood up straighter, offering his hand. “You must be Mr. Sakuraba. I’m your chauffeur, Makoto Miki, but most people just call me Mick. Very nice to meet you.” 

“Same here… and you can just call me Neku.” He shook Mick’s hand quickly, noticing he looked a little startled at the suggestion of informality. 

“Right. Where to this morning?” 

“The schedule says something about a place called La Maison, but I have no idea where that is…” Neku checked his phone, just to make sure an address wasn’t included in the text. 

“I do! No worries, Mr. Saku—er, Neku, sir.” Mick’s eagerness was downright overwhelming, and Neku was starting to feel uncomfortable. He could only hope the driver would relax a little over time, as unlikely as that seemed. “Just get in back and we’ll be there in no time.” 

Neku did as suggested, settling down onto the plush leather seats and turning his head to peer out the window, watching the scenery roll by as they started to drive. He wasn’t one-hundred percent awake yet, the ride a blur until they rolled to a stop in front of a small café with a door painted sky blue and tables set outside, empty because of the cold. Neku slipped out of the car and quickly made his way into the shop, feeling a little better in the warmth of the interior, the smell of fresh bread and coffee washing over him. He realized that he had no idea what to get once he was standing in front of the counter, but he figured he could take his chances. First day, after all, so they had to cut him a _little_ slack. 

Once he was back in the car with the drinks and a pastry wrapped up in a white paper bag, Neku checked his phone, seeing that _pick up Joshua_ was next. Relaying that information to Mick, he scrolled down a bit more, seeing an additional note of, _text him if he’s not out by the time you’re there_ , followed by a cell number, which Neku grudgingly made a new contact for. 

Fortunately, Joshua was standing outside by the time they pulled up, not looking impatient or irritated, so Neku supposed they were on time. He slid into the seat next to Neku without comment, giving a clipped smile to Mick when he chirped, “good morning Mr. Kiryu.” Wordlessly, Neku held out the coffee cup and pastry to Joshua, who raised an eyebrow before taking them. 

“How did you know what to get me?” He asked, finally. 

“I didn’t.” Neku shrugged, taking a long sip of his own drink. 

“So you guessed? That’s not the way to make a good impression on your first day.” Joshua made a soft _tsk_ noise, shaking his head, but Neku didn’t miss the way he was smirking. _Asshole_. “What is this, then?” 

“You ordered a caramel macchiato yesterday, figured I couldn’t go wrong with that and a danish.” 

“What sort—oh, blueberry.” Joshua made a face when he peered into the bag. “Well, since this is your first day, and I’m feeling generous, I suppose I can let this slide. Just remember I like apple next time.” 

“What was I supposed to do, read your _mind_?” He glared over the rim of his cup, trying to convince himself that getting help from Eri and Shiki last night wouldn’t have made a difference. It wasn’t like magazine blurbs said what kind of danish the models liked, right? “You can’t expect me to—” 

“Um. Neku, sir.” Mick cleared his throat. “I hate to interrupt, but you haven’t said where we’re going.” 

“I—oh, sorry. Uh.” He scrolled through his phone quickly. “The Dragon Couture studios?” 

“Roger.” 

“You might’ve done that before we started driving.” Joshua tucked a bit of hair behind his ear, looking so impossibly smug Neku sustained a brief fantasy of pushing him out of the moving car. “Of course, you’re _new_ , and I was told to expect you’d make mistakes. Lucky I’m so patient…” 

“Any other requests, _your highness_?” 

“You could keep calling me that.” He giggled, and Neku felt he might crack a molar from how hard he was grinding his teeth. “Has a nice ring to it.” 

“Not a chance.” Shaking his head, Neku opted to finish his coffee and stare pointedly out the window, covering a small yawn with the back of his hand a minute later. 

“Not a morning person?” Joshua couldn’t just leave him _alone_ , could he? 

“No,” Neku mumbled. “Mornings kind of suck.” Especially the one he was currently experiencing, but he decided not to mention that. 

A short while later, they pulled up in front of a sleek, modern building, the glass doors imprinted with the logo of a green and red dragon winding around the handles. Neku said a quick thank you to Mick, who informed him the car would be back around at the end of the day when the shoot was done. 

Following Joshua inside, Neku took a quick look around, noticing more dragon-themed décor, but considering the brand in question, he wasn’t exactly surprised. A secretary clicked away at a computer behind the desk directly across from the entrance, and after a pointed, irritated look from Joshua, Neku realized he was supposed to say something about their arrival.

“Hello?” He ventured. 

“Yes, how can I help you?” The secretary barely spared him a glance. 

“We’re here for a shoot.” 

“ _We_?” She turned away from her desktop finally, giving Neku an once-over, skepticism blatant. 

“I mean—I’m not.” _Obviously_. “I’m Joshua Kiryu’s assistant, and—” 

“Oh!” The secretary stood, smiling pleasantly now. “We’ve been expecting you. One moment please.” She fiddled with the Bluetooth headset on her left ear and started speaking to someone out of the room. Neku shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes fixed on the tiles and trying to convince himself he imagined hearing a soft, lilting laugh behind him when he had said _Joshua Kiryu’s assistant._ A few minutes later and another woman, carrying a clipboard, emerged from one of the rooms hidden behind a jutting wall on the right side of the foyer. She paused when she finally got within speaking distance, only long enough to say a quick greeting before neatly pivoting back around and motioning for them to follow. 

“I’m sorry for the rush,” she said as they walked. “If we want to get everything in, it has to meet a tight schedule. But I can’t tell you enough how lucky we feel to have you working with us, Mr. Kiryu.” 

“The pleasure is all mine,” Joshua replied smoothly, and Neku checked the urge to roll his eyes. Should have expected he was the kind of person able to turn on charm like a light switch. 

“Well, the head photographer is doing some last minute lighting adjustments, so we’ll just get you into makeup.” The woman’s heels clicked as they went along a wide hallway, a smattering of crew workers and other models roaming about. She stopped at a door near the end of the corridor, Neku spotting the bright shine of stage lights around the corner, before unlocking it and ushering them inside. “The artists will be here in a few minutes. Just have a seat in front of the mirror, and if you need anything at all just tell your assistant, and he’ll relay it to us.” Neku was handed a small white business card with a cell number printed on it, which he tucked into his pocket. 

After she left, Neku sunk down onto one of the plush chairs scattered about, looking over at the mirror on the adjacent wall, the table in front of it littered with brushes, bottles, thick white sponges, jars, and cases. Joshua seemed content to sit and flip through a magazine for the time being, so Neku thought it might be safe to take out his sketchbook, for just a little while. 

“You draw?” He had barely gotten the vague outline of something down—twisted and dragon like, taking influence from all the decoration—when Joshua spoke up. 

“Oh, yeah.” Neku shrugged one shoulder. “I do.” 

“Just a hobby, or do you want to go to school for it?” 

“I _did_ go to school for it, actually.” He tapped the eraser of his pencil against the corner of the paper. He wasn’t sure what to make of Joshua’s curiosity, or what to make of himself answering everything freely. “For a year, and then I just—it wasn’t my thing.” 

“I see.” Joshua hummed, thoughtfully, whatever he was going to say next lost in a brief burst of noise from a set of make-up artists entering the room. They paid no mind to Neku and went straight to work, Joshua settling back in his chair and letting them apply whatever they needed to, expression relaxed. 

“You seem used to this.” He was starting to think that _maybe_ he should take a little of Shiki and Eri’s advice if he didn’t want to be miserable. If he could learn enough about Joshua to make his life easier, that was all he needed. 

“I’ve done it enough,” Joshua said lightly. “After a while, anything becomes wrote.” 

“How long is a while?” 

“ _You’ve_ become curious all of a sudden.” Joshua’s eyes slid closed as one of the artists swiped something over the lids. 

“You started it,” Neku muttered. “And it’s a simple question.” Before Joshua could answer, or perhaps evade the inquiry entirely, one of the makeup artists interjected. 

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I need you to stop talking for _just_ a minute, Mr. Kiryu.” He did as requested and Neku watched the artist, out of the corner of his eye, start to apply some sort of smoothing, lightly tinted balm. He noticed for the first time that Joshua’s lower lip was fuller than the upper one, pouty, the slow stroke of the angled makeup brush drawing attention to it, and Neku found himself staring. 

“Three years.” 

“I—what?” Neku jerked back, startled, nearly dropping his sketchbook. He hadn’t registered that the artists were finished, starting to pack up all the tools and supplies. 

“How long I’ve been modeling.” Joshua stood out of his chair. “I have to go get changed for the shoot, but I’m sure you can find your own way out to where it will be.” 

“Yeah, sure.” He sighed, wondering just how boring modeling shoots actually were to watch. 

“You could stand to look a little more cheerful, you know.” The corners of Joshua’s mouth quirked up into a sly, amused smile, and Neku found his attention drawn to the other’s lips again-- _shit_ was this going to keep happening? “Not like you’re undergoing torture, here.” 

_Could’ve fooled me_ , Neku thought, but muttered quick, “see you out there” in response instead, procuring his sketchbook and bag before moving out into the hall, the door closing behind him with a soft _click_. It wasn’t even noon and he was exhausted. 

So much for taking it easy on the first day. 

****

To say Joshua was less than enthused to be getting an assistant would be an understatement. He expected someone fawning or professional and all too _boring_ , but what he got instead was one Neku Sakuraba, who was neither of those things, and a thousand times more interesting for it. Sanae sometimes managed to surprise him in good ways, and he supposed this was one of those occasions. Where his agent found these people, Joshua never knew, but he certainly had a knack for it. But despite the plus of his new assistant being someone worth his while, Joshua still liked things done right, and in that regard Neku was a little lacking. 

“You didn’t tell the driver to be back by lunchtime?” The street was unusually empty, and Joshua slipped his hands into the pockets of his coat to stave off the cold. 

“Was I supposed to?” Neku looked back at him, blankly. 

“Yes. Unless you ask the crew to get something to eat, but by now it might be too late.” He heaved a sigh, feigning more dejection than he actually felt, just to watch Neku twitch with barely veiled annoyance. “I’m practically starving too, since _someone_ messed up my breakfast.” 

“I—okay, fine.” Neku folded his arms, glancing towards the end of the block for a moment. “I think I might know a good ramen place around here…if, you know, you’re not above walking and food that isn’t caviar on fucking toast, that is.” Joshua just laughed, which seemed to grate on Neku further. 

“Sure. I love ramen, actually.” 

“Right.” With a shake of his head, he started walking, not bothering to look behind him to see if Joshua actually followed. 

“I hope you know where you’re going.” He fell in step behind Neku, peering very quickly down at his watch. “We do have to be back in a little more than an hour.” 

“I’m not gonna get lost,” Neku grumbled, shoulders visibly tensing. “I can’t believe how many pictures of a single outfit they have to take, anyway.” 

“Well, there’s going to be a new set after the break.” Joshua shrugged. “Despite who you’re working for, you don’t seem all that enthused about fashion.” 

“You should know Mr. H just kind of…sprung it on me.” Neku turned the corner, stopping after a few more steps to peer up at a sign. “Anyway, here we are. Told you it wasn’t far.” 

“Good job, you were right.” Joshua pushed open the door, throwing Neku a teasing smile over his shoulder. “Do you want a reward for your efforts?” 

“No, I—” He heard Neku let out a hiss of frustration, before he thought better of retorting and fell silent. It wasn’t until they were seated with their food that Joshua decided to speak up again. 

“So if you’re not into the fashion world, why did you take this job?” 

“Why does anyone take a job involving something they don’t like?” Neku glanced up from his bowl, warily. “The money.” 

“Then what is it you’d rather be doing?” Joshua plucked a bamboo shoot out with his chopsticks idly. “Something involving art, I’d wager.” 

“Yeah.” Neku’s eyebrows furrowed. “What’s with all the questions?” 

“I can’t get to know my new assistant better?” He tilted his head to the side, the picture of innocent curiosity, but Neku’s apprehensive expression didn’t waver. “Honestly, Neku, I’m just making conversation.” He didn’t reply, and a silence stretched out between them, long enough that Joshua was about to return to his meal when Neku shifted in his seat, bringing one hand up to curl around the shell of his ear. The gesture, done out of nervousness or contemplation, was endearing, and Joshua didn’t bother to hide his amusement. 

“ _Something_ with art, is the thing,” Neku said, finally. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean—in school, I did okay, I guess, but I didn’t know what I was doing with it. Nothing was what I wanted, and it was so…” He struggled for the right word, eyes darting over to the window. “…boring.” 

“Really?” It seemed the other was full of surprises. Joshua felt a small tug of connection at that. “That’s the reason I choose not to be famous.” 

“You _chose_ that?” Neku’s voice was dripping with derision, but Joshua just giggled, pausing to eat a small mouthful of noodles. 

“Why else do you think I work for such a small agency? I could branch out if I _wanted_ to, but what’s the fun in that?” He gestured vaguely with the hand not holding his chopsticks. “You get trapped when everyone knows who you are. Isn’t it better to be able to do whatever you want to?” 

“Yeah, I guess…I guess I can understand that.” Neku’s frown eased into something out of confusion rather than exasperation, gazing unwaveringly at Joshua like there was some puzzle in his eyes and appearance to solve. “Huh.” 

“Goodness, I might be a model, but if you keep looking at me like that, I’ll start blushing.” He laughed again when Neku immediately turned his head away, muttering something under his breath that sounded quite like _jackass_. 

Oh, this was going to be fun.


End file.
